


Sunday

by ginnyred



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 05:19:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18381755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginnyred/pseuds/ginnyred
Summary: “How are you feeling?”Marti takes a sip of his espresso. Eva watches him drink, put the cup down, and turn it slightly to the right so the handle is perfectly perpendicular to his line of sight.He looks up with a vague smile.“Fine.” It sounds like an exhale. “How areyoufeeling?”





	Sunday

“How are you feeling?”

Marti takes a sip of his espresso. Eva watches him drink, put the cup down, and turn it slightly to the right so the handle is perfectly perpendicular to his line of sight.

He looks up with a vague smile.

“Fine.” It sounds like an exhale. “How are _you_ feeling?”

“Like shit,” Eva replies flatly. The corner of Marti's mouth curves upwards, and she finds herself mirroring his half-smile. She takes a deep breath. “Listen, I wanted to say-”

“Not that you're sorry, right?” Marti interrupts. His tone is light, but also tired. “Everyone keeps saying they're sorry. I'm a bit sick of it.”

Eva was about to say just that, so she raises an eyebrow at him.

“Who's everyone?”

“Literally everyone I've spoken to since Friday night.” Marti pulls a face. “ _Chicco Rodi_ came to tell me he was sorry about the things those guys said to me. That was, like, the weirdest one.”

Eva offers him a tiny smile.

“It doesn't sound too bad.”

“Maybe not,” Marti concedes. “But don't say you're sorry too, okay?”

“I say what I want. You're not the boss of me,” Eva replies, but there's no bite to it.

Marti rolls his eyes.

“Eleonora would be proud,” he offers, more teasing than sarcastic – but it hits a bit too close for comfort anyway.

Eva looks down at her hands. She plays with the handle of her tea mug, not really picking it up, but not letting go of it either.

“Yeah. Maybe not so much after Friday night.”

It's barely above a whisper, but it's enough to get Marti to tense up. Eva is looking down, but she can feel the mood shift between them.

“You're not... You can't-” He seems to struggle for words. “Eva, look at me.”

Eva doesn't. She can't.

“Eva.” Marti's hand on hers is surprisingly warm. It's freezing this morning after two days of rain, even inside the bar. “Eva, it's not your fault. You know that, right? Those guys were assholes. They said those things because they are assholes. I mean, the way they were with you-”

Eva shakes her head.

“No,” she says. It comes out weak and vulnerable and she hates that this is who she is. The silly girl who needs help all the time. “I mean, yes, they were assholes. But if I hadn't been drunk, I wouldn't have needed you to come get me and then they wouldn't have...”

“Being drunk is not a crime,” Marti replies sensibly. Eva feels his thumb stroke gently against the back of her hand. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I don't even remember what I said to them. Something about the Argentinian, probably. I don't even-” Eva removes her hand from Marti's and brings it up to cover her face. She's so ashamed. “I'm so sorry, Marti.”

“There it is. Again.”

Marti lets out an over-the-top sigh, in the hope of making her smile. Eva tries, for his sake, but she knows it's unconvincing. She forces herself to look up.

He's smiling way too kindly and it makes her feel inadequate.

“What I'm trying to say is.... you don't deserve this.” Eva sighs. She wishes she could explain things more eloquently, like Ele always does. She's not Ele, not even close, but she has to try. “You're so brave all the time. You didn't deserve those assholes.”

Marti blushes a bit at that. It's a rare sight, and it makes her smile more genuinely.

“I'm not, honestly. But thank you.” He clears his throat. “You didn't deserve those assholes either. You know that, right? Tell me you know that.”

“I do,” Eva says.

She does, though the guilt is hard to shake. It speaks in that voice, the one that loves to remind her that her grades are bad and she should do better. Be better.

 _Smarter, prettier, more responsible._ Sometimes it's so loud it's the only thing she can hear.

But she does know. She does.

“You do what?” Marti insists, and she rolls her eyes at him.

“Marti. I'm not five.”

He grins. He's probably remembering that she told him that once before.

“Say it.”

Eva sighs dramatically, but indulges him.

“I do know that I didn't deserve those assholes. And you didn't either.” She pulls a face at him. “Happy now?”

“Yes.” Marti smiles and drinks the last of his coffee. “Yes, I am.”

Eva hasn't touched her tea at all. She's still a bit nauseous, and after one day she can hardly blame it on the hangover. It feels like it's slowly getting better, though.

“Nico?” she asks. “Is he alright?”

“Yes, he ended up staying over on Friday. And yesterday too.” Marti pauses, probably wondering if he should leave it at that, but then he meets Eva's eyes and it's like she can see him physically shrug off his reticence. “That's... probably why I'm in one piece today, to be honest.”

_Oh, Marti._

Her heart aches for him.

But he's so proud, and Eva doesn't want him to think she's pitying him – she so isn't. If anything she admires his strength, she wishes she had it too – so she says nothing. Also because she would just end up repeating she's sorry, and his eyes would roll so far back he wouldn't be able to find them anymore.

The mental image makes her giggle, and Marti raises an eyebrow at her.

“Are you going to share the joke with the class or...?”

“I don't think so, no.” Eva smiles. She considers trying her tea and the idea doesn't make her stomach turn, so she carefully takes a sip. It feels okay. A bit cold, but okay. “I'd rather keep you on your toes.”

“Oh my God, not on my toes,” Marti deadpans. He grins. “Nice jacket, by the way.”

It's the jean jacket Eva bought last week. She saw it in the shop and it looked just like _his_ and she just... bought it impulsively. It was mostly nostalgia, and she didn't think anyone would notice anyway. No one else has.

Or, at least, they were kind enough to keep their mouths shut about it. Of course Marti wouldn't.

Eva narrows her eyes at him.

“You're _such_ an asshole.”

“It was a compliment, you're always in bad faith.” Marti flashes her a smile, and Eva almost believes him for a second. He's getting way too good at this. “He told me he texted you yesterday.”

Eva sips some more of her tea. Mostly just to look busy, but it tastes good. She considers playing dumb, but it's never worked with Marti before.

“Yes. To ask how I was,” she offers in the end. “It was nice of him.”

Very nice. Suspiciously nice. Eva dissected the ten words and two emojis of his Whatsapp text for two hours before replying.

In retrospect, it was probably very dumb and a bit pathetic. Just like buying the jacket.

“It was nice, yeah.” Marti's expression softens. He fidgets with his empty cup for a few moments and Eva waits for him to articulate. “Do you want to, like... talk about it? I mean for real. Without jokes. We can do that if you want.”

It's so sweet and caring it makes Eva smile.

“There's not much to say, really.”

Marti shrugs.

“I suppose not.”

“Hardly an original story.”

“Tell me about it.”

That startles a surprised laugh out of her.

She didn't think Marti would ever bring it up himself – he only ever admitted to it indirectly, and they've never discussed it. Not that they have to, or that she feels the need to, but it's nice to know they share this thing and that, even though it's raw and painful, it's not a taboo.

“You've grown so much,” Eva says. It's true, and sometimes it's so painfully obvious it makes her anxious. It's a weird feeling, but she's proud of him. “Really, you have.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Marti concedes with a smile.

“I wish I could be more like you.”

 _Brave and kind and generous_ , she means. _Able to move forward. To forgive yourself and let go._ Eva wouldn't know how to articulate it, though, and, even if she could, it would probably get stuck in her throat.

“I don't. I like you as you,” Marti says gently. He makes to take Eva's hand again, but she's quicker and takes his instead. It makes him smile. “And, like, Eva?”

“Yeah?”

“I promise it gets better. I didn't believe it either, but it does.”

Eva feels a bit like she should be crying, but she smiles instead.

She squeezes his hand in hers – hard, way too hard – because words are difficult and feeling even more so and she isn't very good at either. So she squeezes Marti's hand and hopes he understands.

“I like you as you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Still me, sorry. I thought of waiting but then it made more sense to post it on the day it's supposed to be set (before I'm forced to change things because they are not canon compliant anymore).
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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